Conquering my Qualms with Starbucks

Yesterday I went to Starbucks to work on some homework.

I wanted to go to Hartford or maybe back to Mokabe’s where I had been earlier

Really just something more “local”

With free-range, pesticide free eggs for sale

And mismatched mugs rather than paper, logo-filled cups.

But I went because last time I was there I ran out crying

And I felt like I needed to conquer that

And somehow prove that I can be happy in places that aren’t really “me”.

I also wanted to be with my friend

Because I only have a few weeks left here

And even though I’ve become so comfortable with solitude, I really love company.

So as I’m sitting at Starbucks, sipping my coffee

Trying not to think about how it cost me a whole $1 more than the 2 cups of coffee I had earlier.

Writing my paper “The Sustainability of Global Urban Farming”

Learning about food justice, depleting tax bases, malnutrition in Ghana, and the leftist policies in Venezuela that recognize the strength of the campesinos.

People are rushing in and out, wearing their business suits and heels

But there’s also college students

And a homeless man

Who just wants some water and a warm place to rest, safe from the cold rain outside.

But they told him he can’t have any tap water because he’s not a paying customer

And he says he understands. And I know he does because I know he’s probably heard that same phrase plenty of times before.

So I’m sitting inside. And I’m cold.

And he’s outside where I’m sure it’s much colder.

So I went out there and asked him if he’d like something warm to drink.

And at first he just stared at me, raising one eyebrow.

Maybe questioning his faith in humanity?

Maybe he was just so intrigued by the way the streetlights reflected in the water?

Maybe no one had started a conversation with him in awhile?

So he came inside and got a large coffee.

And the girl behind the counter just stared.

His name was Jerry, he said he almost forgot because no one really asks him his name anymore.

I told him about my paper. He wished me good luck. Then he settled into his chair by the window, watching the cars go by.

A smile on his face.

I know in social work they always teach us we can’t just do things for people, we have to teach them how to do it themselves.

Handouts don’t solve deep-rooted problems.

Ms. Stewart taught me at Kingdom House…

“You gotta teach the people how to fish, not just throw them a fish or even a pole.”

And I believe that, I truly do.

But the reality is, Jerry knows how to order a coffee.

He knows what size he wants. He knows he doesn’t need room for cream or sugar.

He knows how to carry on a conversation.

He knows how to smile and how to express gratitude.

I didn’t need to teach him anything.

And I didn’t give him a hand out either.

I bought him a cup of coffee because it was cold, and no one deserves to sit outside in the rain.

He never asked for it, didn’t even hint at it.

I did it. Just because it felt right.

And I don’t want a pat on the back or praise for doing something so simple.

I just want people to understand that injustice exists.

That some people can easily turn their heads and see what they want to see.

And we so frequently put in our headphones, stare at our phones or computers, sip our coffee... without recognizing the people beside us.

Who maybe just need a warm cup of coffee, or a smile, or a friend. 

To be reminded that they matter

and that they have a name that shouldn't be forgotten.